Rest in pieces

My Father lived his life with his eyes just out of the water,
Like an alligator quietly  searching for something intense,
Of course he failed and fell at mankind's great slaughter.
Being trapped by piles of gin bottles making a fence.

With a son who couldn’t strain and fight or arm wrestle,
Or bust the jaw of an enemy who got too near,
With a disappointed heart he found joy in a bottle,
And drowned his misfortune in a bath full of beer.

He didn’t come far from the junkyard to the graveyard,
I can’t help thinking that his life must have been hard.